


Festivities and Flashbacks

by st_mick



Series: Niffler [46]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Flashbacks, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Weddings are a bitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 13:15:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21100058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/pseuds/st_mick
Summary: Ianto attends Susan's wedding, only to have some startling realizations about his life and his future.  He goes to the hub after, and circumstances conspire to give him a flashback that leaves him desperate enough to consider breaking his promises.  Luckily, Jack is there to help ground him and keep him safe from his own demons.





	Festivities and Flashbacks

It was mid-December, and the air had turned cold. It was a bright, clear day, just a few days from the solstice. Ianto served one last round of coffees and asked Jack if he’d be needing anything else.

“Finally taking a Saturday afternoon and evening off, I see,” Jack smiled.

Ianto nodded, though he looked uncomfortable. “My friend Susan is getting married this afternoon,” Ianto answered.

Jack’s stomach clenched. Ianto going to a wedding right now was a _terrible_ idea.

As if he’d read Jack’s mind, Ianto gave a sad smile. “It’s fine, Sir. She’s a good friend, and I can’t allow my own… circumstances… to cloud her joy.”

“You’re a good friend, Ianto,” Jack smiled sadly. “If you’re not too late getting back, maybe stop by for a nightcap.” In truth, he wanted to be sure the younger man would be okay. Weddings could be tough at the best of times. But Ianto was barely treading water, at the moment.

Ianto smiled and nodded. “I might just do that,” he said.

He’d grown rather fond of their nightcaps. Most days now would end as they had before Lisa lost her battle with the cyber-tech, with Ianto bringing Jack a coffee and them talking about everything and nothing until Ianto felt tired enough that he might actually sleep for a few hours together when he got home. Draco was limiting him to one dreamless sleep potion every ten days, and so far the nightmares were not abating.

He went home to shower and change before driving back to the Green Dragon to use the floo network access there to travel to the wedding venue, a castle in the midlands. For once he wasn’t frustrated that his own fireplace had not yet been added to the floo network, because the Green Dragon was close enough to the city center that he could walk to the hub after the wedding, if he decided to have that drink with Jack.

The ceremony was beautiful, and Ianto tried to ignore the sharp, hollow ache in his chest as he watched one of his friends find her joy in a way he was now certain he never would. He had come to the conclusion that he had not just lost Lisa and Eleanor; he had also lost all hope for a family of his own. Never mind that loving Lisa had been like winning the lottery. He knew the odds were against something like that happening for him, again. 

There was also Torchwood to consider.

He tried very, very hard not to do just that, but given that he couldn’t even sit by a fire on the beach without getting the hell beaten out of himself, he just couldn’t seem to muster any optimism. 

His mood declined steadily as the evening progressed.

The reception was held in the banquet hall of the old castle. Ianto had been seated at a table with Luna, Neville and Hannah, Harry and Ginny, Ron and Hermione, and George and Angelina. It was a good group, and the conversation flowed easily, but Ianto found it increasingly difficult to maintain his bland façade.

He had been very quiet all evening, but by the time the bride and groom had their first dance he had withdrawn altogether. His friends were kind enough to pretend not to notice. As the dance ended, he sought out Susan, giving her a hug and a kiss and sincerely wishing her every joy. His genuine, though bittersweet, smile was almost Susan’s undoing, but for his sake she kept her composure. She was able to smile warmly and embrace him before he took his leave.

He had almost escaped the banquet hall when Molly Weasley took his arm. “You’re a good man, Ianto,” she said in a low voice. “Not many would have braved this, so soon.”

He shrugged. “She’s my friend,” he said, because it really was as simple as that.

“I won’t try to stop you, but if you’ll allow me to walk you to the fireplace,” she smiled, “I have a request for you.”

Ianto’s composure was in tatters, and he really needed to leave. But his politeness forced him to hold his ground. “I’ll do what I’m able,” he replied.

“I was hoping you could spend Christmas with us,” she said cheerily, pretending to ignore his struggles.

“Oh,” he hesitated. Christmas was only a week away. “That sounds lovely, but…”

“Don’t say no,” she said, her voice stern but kind. “Just say you’ll try to join us, at least for dinner.”

“I…” Ianto did not want to make any promises. At the moment, he wasn’t entirely certain that he would be able to keep those he’d already made. “I’ll try,” he said, “but I only see my sister and her family at Christmas, so I suppose I’ll have to put in an appearance, there.” He frowned and added, “Rift willing.”

“Of course. But just remember, we’d love to have you. Dinner will be at six.” She reached up and hugged him, holding on to him for a bit longer than polite. “Today must have been very difficult, Ianto. Be sure you take good care of yourself, okay?”

Ianto nodded, not trusting his voice. He grabbed a handful of floo powder and headed to the Green Dragon. He put his dress robes in the boot of his car and headed to the nearest off license. He bought a bottle of Penderyn Aur Cymru and proceeded to treat it as no respectable single malt whisky deserves to be treated.

He downed almost a third of the bottle in one go.

Some Heddlu knob waved him on his way, so he put the bottle in a pocket and headed for the hub. He was midway down the invisible lift when the whisky hit him. Dizzy, he sat down hard on the paving stone, only just missing falling off of it. The jolt of the fall, the alcohol, and his frayed state of mind all combined to trigger one hell of a flashback.

Myfanwy was attacking Lisa. No, Myfanwy was attacking the creature wearing Lisa’s face. Her beautiful face, and those inhuman sounds. Ianto was curled up on the paving stone screaming when Jack reached him.

“Ianto!” he took the younger man’s face in his hands. “Ianto, it’s all right. You’re safe.” He didn’t know what Ianto was seeing, but given where he was staring and the anguish on his face, Jack could make an educated guess.

It took a few moments, but Ianto was finally able to focus on Jack’s voice, and see his face. “Jack,” he whispered, his hands wrapped around Jack’s wrists. “Help me.”

“Tell me what to do, Ianto,” Jack hated seeing the Welshman so distraught.

“I can’t… I can’t do this, Jack,” he cried. “I can’t bear it.” He sucked in a breath. “Gods and goddesses, Jack. I can’t pretend I can do this, anymore.”

“Yes you can, Ianto,” Jack was frightened by the overwhelm he saw in Ianto’s eyes.

“Please, just don’t let me…” Ianto begged, desperate. “Not on Susan’s wedding day. Please don’t let me do that to her.”

Jack drew Ianto into his arms. “I’ll keep you safe, Ianto.” He held the younger man for a few minutes as he wept. 

When he pulled away, Jack let him. “Maybe if it looked like an accident,” he slurred.

“It’d still have happened on her wedding day,” Jack tried to keep his tone reasonable, despite the fact that he felt himself panicking.

“I could wait ‘til midnight.”

“It’d still have happened right after you left her wedding.” He reached out and brushed a tear from Ianto’s face. “Besides, you promised.”

“I’m starting not to care,” Ianto glanced at Jack, but then something seemed to catch his eye. His breath caught, and Jack was surprised to see him pull a bottle of whisky from a pocket and start gulping it down. 

He gently pulled the bottle from Ianto’s grasp. “Slow down, Ianto. You’ve got all night. Don’t make yourself sick.”

“Won’t get sick.” Ianto reached for the bottle, his eyes still desperate. “Make it stop,” he begged. He slumped back, putting his hands over his ears and rocking back and forth. “_Please_.”

“Make what stop?”

“Myfanwy’s cries. That _thing’s_ shrieks. It has my Lisa’s face, but it’s not Lisa. Not anymore. It’s not fair that it took Lisa’s face. Jack, please make it stop.”

Jack closed his eyes. _Shit._ Ianto was having the mother of all flashbacks. “Okay, Ianto, let’s get you on your feet.”

He pulled Ianto to his feet and faced the younger man. “Ianto, listen to my voice. You’re having a flashback.” He took Ianto’s hands from where they were covering his ears. “It’s just a flashback. It’s not real. Say it with me.”

“A… flashback,” Ianto swallowed, then blinked. “It’s not real?”

“Feel your feet on the floor,” Jack carefully placed his foot over each of Ianto’s, pressing each into the floor, one at a time. “Just a flashback. It’s the seventeenth of December, and Myfanwy is out hunting. The Cyberman is gone. You’re safe. We’re all safe. Lisa has found her peace and is at rest, now.”

Ianto stared hard at the spot where Myfanwy had attacked Lisa. “Not real,” he frowned, obviously still seeing something there, but willing it to stop. “Lisa is gone,” he intoned, his expression turning forlorn.

Jack took his hand and squeezed it. “You’re here, now. You’re safe.” He pulled Ianto’s hand up to his cheek and brushed it against the grain of his stubble. He ignored the now-familiar spark as Ianto’s thousand yard stare began to come back into focus. 

Ianto looked at Jack, and his eyes widened. “Jack?”

Jack pulled Ianto into his arms, grasping the back of his head. With Jack’s gentle encouragement, Ianto buried his face in the crook of the older man’s neck. Jack’s scent seemed to provide the last of the grounding Ianto needed in order to free himself from the nightmare memory.

Jack closed his eyes, willing his body not to react to Ianto snuffling at the sensitive skin just below his jaw. He could count on one hand the number of people in this time zone who could sense his pheromones. Dearest Estelle had been the last, until Ianto. His insides squeezed at the thought that it was his scent that comforted the beautiful, lost soul in his arms. He stepped carefully away from the thought.

When Ianto calmed, Jack turned him, hugging him to his side. “Let’s get you up to my office.”

Ianto was suddenly a bit legless, and Jack had to help steady him as they made their way to the sofa in his office.

“Never had one like that,” Ianto muttered as Jack filled a glass and handed it to him. He downed it quickly.

“Slow down, Ianto,” Jack admonished again. He tried to resist, but was unable, so he asked, “Not your first flashback, then?”

Ianto shook his head slowly, staring into his empty glass. He felt like he was about to come out of his skin, and he said so.

Jack sat beside him and began briskly chafing Ianto’s arms. “Talk to me, Ianto. Get out of your head, for a bit. We can stay here and drink if you can get your feet under you. Otherwise, I think it may be a good idea to go spar.”

Ianto rubbed his face. He didn’t feel like training, but he knew Jack would make him, if he couldn’t get ahold of himself. He realized that talking might actually be the easier thing, at the moment. He sighed. “I was holding my own, really. Bought the whisky to bring here so we could have a drink.”

“So you were okay, after the wedding,” Jack sounded skeptical.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to say that. Actually,” Ianto sniffed, “had a bit of an epiphany. That’s why I slugged part of the bottle in one go, after I bought it.”

“What epiphany?” Jack asked, certain he didn’t want to hear the answer.

Ianto’s shoulders slumped. “That lightening doesn’t strike twice.” He sniffed again. “I saw it all unfolding in front of me. My future. My friends all moving on. Marrying. Having children. Families,” his voice broke. “And poor, pathetic Ianto. Unloved. Unlovable. Left behind. Alone.”

“Wow. That’s a hell of a leap,” Jack reached out and grabbed Ianto’s arm, giving it a shake. “Give yourself some time to heal. It won’t always feel so…”

“Bleak?” Ianto gave a bitter laugh. “I could feel it, you know. Even people who don’t know me well. Could practically hear them. There’s that poor Ianto Jones. Just lost his fiancé, you know. The poor sod.” He swiped angrily at his tears. “I could _feel_ their pity, Jack. I had to leave because I was choking on it.”

He laughed again. “And yeah. Then I bought a bottle of whisky.” He frowned. “Do you think it’s true, that eventually we all turn into our fathers?”

Jack blinked at the non sequitur. “I don’t think so,” he said honestly. “I sometimes wish it were true. My father was a good man.”

Ianto patted Jack’s knee. “So are you, ya twpsyn.”[1] He shook his head. “Mine wasn’t.”

Jack took Ianto’s hand. “Then it’s not a worry. You’re a good man too, Ianto.”

Ianto closed his eyes and shook his head, more tears spilling. “His answer to everything was the drink. And now, what am I doing?”

“You’re trying to cope. Other than that night with your friends, I haven’t seen you abusing alcohol. And given the state of everyone, you were barely keeping up with them. Look, you haven’t been getting hammered every night, just to keep going. You’re not depending on it, just to get by.” Jack reached out to Ianto and brushed away another tear. “You’re telling me you were doing all right, until you had that flashback.”

“I was being lazy,” Ianto admitted. “And the whisky hadn’t hit me, so I wasn’t thinking that it was the first time I’ve been on the invisible lift, since that night.”

Jack vaguely wondered if he’d get Ianto onto the thing, ever again.

“But then the whisky hit you,” Jack prompted.

Ianto nodded. “It startled me, and then I got a little vertiginous.”

“Vertiginous…” Jack smiled. Only Ianto would pull out a word like that while off his face.

“I sat down so I wouldn’t fall off the damned thing, but the jolt… That seems to be what started the flashback.”

Jack shook his head. “So you went from holding your own to trying to work out how to die without breaking your promise to your friends.”

Ianto shrugged. “Just call me Captain Mood Swing.”

Jack chuckled. He filled Ianto’s glass again. He hoped Ianto was being truthful when he said he wouldn’t get sick. Owen had an alien hangover cure, so he could dig that up, before morning. In the meantime, he needed to be sure Ianto’s suicidal inclinations had passed. He certainly seemed less desperate now, but Jack was not willing to take any chances.

“And how are you, now?”

“Holding my own, again,” Ianto nodded, sipping his whisky, this time. He shook his head. “It was like something inside me just… exploded. All I could hear were,” he shuddered and closed his eyes at the memory, “those noises, and all I could feel was this sort of despair and panic, and the only thought was that if my life is going to be a constant reliving of those particular moments, then there’s no way I can pull that off.”

“But it’s better now?” Jack asked, hoping Ianto would tell him the truth, or that he’d be able to tell if Ianto was lying. “The despair and panic?”

Ianto nodded and took another sip of his drink. Jack could see his hands were shaking, but that was likely the adrenaline bleeding away. “I just feel wrung out, now.”

“And?”

Ianto huffed. “And afraid it will happen again.” He didn’t add that he was also afraid that if it did happen again, Jack wouldn’t be there to help him through it.

“Well, let’s avoid the combination of whisky, the lift, and falling on your arse. Maybe that will be enough to prevent it.”

Ianto gave a small laugh and nodded. He looked at Jack but found he couldn’t take the intensity of the older man’s expression. “Thank you for helping me,” he said quietly.

“Any time, Ianto.”

Jack did not think it was a good idea for Ianto to be alone, so he insisted that the younger man sleep in his bunker that night. He stayed up doing paperwork, though he did grab a couple hours’ kip on the couch in his office. 

The next morning Ianto woke to a bottle of water and two of Owen’s miracle hangover pills on the bedside table.

***

In the days following, Jack watched Ianto carefully. He was relieved to notice that the younger man seemed more at ease, almost as though the flashback had helped him to cast off another burden. He truly seemed to be mending, but it was so difficult to tell, given how good he was at masking his pain.

Jack did not want to consider how it was that Ianto had become so adept at that particular skill.

But he knew that grief came in waves, and a person could truly be doing fine until a tremendous wave knocked them off their feet again. This seemed to be the case, but he was still wary. Ianto’s desperation the night of the flashback had shaken him, again.

***

Ianto attended a solstice celebration with Luna, but only the sunset and bonfire. He decided to avoid the banquet afterwards, since he clearly did not have his usual mastery over his occlumency. Luna took the floo network with him back to the Green Dragon, but he found the crowd oppressive, so they found a quiet restaurant and had dinner.

Ianto felt badly that she was missing the banquet, but she admitted being somewhat tired, and not up for the revelry of the celebration. They walked back to his flat and she stayed to watch a movie with him. They tried for a game of chess after the movie, but they both found the muggle chessboard frightfully boring.

After asking minutely about his plans for Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day, she left his flat and apparated home from the Ministry’s flat across the hall.

***

[1] Idiot


End file.
